a tale of two kitties

How does the story go? It was the best of times, it was the worst of times? At risk of Dickensian metaphorical hyperbole, the last couple weeks have had some ups and downs. There was the loss of a beloved pet, but the adoption of two new ones. There were the three trips to the vet when the cute little new pets became very sick, but nothing multiple medications given via syringe and squirted into the eyes twice a day couldn’t remedy. There were the emails and calls about possible sightings of our lost pet, which raised our hopes but all of which turned out to be the wrong cat. There was the shocking revelation that after tenweeks of hard, sweat-dripping, muscle-aching, don’t-fear-the-burn exercising at the gym with my nazi personal trainer, I officially lost one pound (ARE YOU KIDDING ME?) and my thighs are one inch bigger. *THEN* there was the family health scare, thankfully with a happy ending, that put all the other problems into perspective. (Because, finally, we find something that actually is one of the big problems in life.)

I’m still mad about the thighs thing though.

Gym drama aside, I am happy to share some good pet news for a change: we have two new little kittens at our house. They do not fill the hole in our hearts, but there is nothing like kitten silliness to cheer the soul. They are, frankly, ridiculous.

This is Mia.

She is not the kitten I specifically went in to the humane society to find, but she turned out to be The One. After 17 hours in the kitten room at the shelter, when the volunteer carries in The One, you just know. She is very sweet and quiet and a bit shy. She likes to curl up under my chin to go to sleep. It makes housework difficult to complete.

This is Cowboy.

He is not the brightest star in the dark prairie sky, but he purrs like a hemi engine (very impressive to the automotive experts around here) and is an extremely playful and affectionate little guy. I went to the humane society five times in two weeks to find just the right kitten; he is SO not what I went in specifically to find either, but he told me he wanted to come live with us, so what could I do? Plus, those clever marketing geniuses at the shelter offered me two-kittens-for-the-price-of-one, so he was the bonus, BOGO kitten. (Turns out, two kittens come with twice the diseases and parasites that they can quickly share! What a deal!)

So, things are looking up.

1. The kittens are rounding the corner towards good health, which means they are getting into more and more mischief every day. (They were so well behaved when they were just laying there…)

2. The outpouring of help and concern and kind words from the community in the search for our cat has warmed my heart.

3. The scale at the gym clearly has something wrong with it. The decades-long pain in my back is much better, my lungs can take deeper breaths, my clothes fit better and I have more stamina when I walk the dog.

4. The biggest health problem my family now has to face is how sick we feel when watching Brett Favre on the Vikings.

And the extra inch on each thigh? It just means I can hold both kittens on my lap at once instead of doing the dishes.

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14 thoughts on “a tale of two kitties”

I especially liked that cowboy isn’t a) the smartest star in the sky and b) he purrs like a hemi….. love a good hemi.

The pain in your back being better is GREAT news…and I’m sure the scale not moving is because you’re building muscle mass. Soon you’ll be able to *take* your trainer…just keep that in mind when you’re plotting revenge every time you’re told to do “just one more set”….then the trainer makes you do another….

Thanks for the chuckle Jane! I feel your pain with the gym drama–been there done that. The hard part is persevering when you don’t “see” the results. At least you feel them and that’s huge, too! Maybe you’ll even inspire me to get my butt back on that treadmill!

Your kittens are adorable, as all kittens were meant to be, I guess. Too bad they grow up to bite the hand that feeds them … oh wait, that’s my cat. I’m sure yours will stay adorable through all nine lives.

I love that you found a silver-lining to the one inch thing. Really, it’s only muscle, but anything to keep from doing the dishes.

jane, candid

In 2009, I started this blog to share my sometimes thoughtful, sometimes funny, occasionally irreverent thoughts on motherhood, writing for publication and myriad creatures that got along as cats and dogs.

One day, I felt like stepping away from living out loud for awhile. Eh, life happens.

Fast forward five years -- I'll gloss over the details for now -- save to say that lucky for me an unexpected detour has provided some new material.

So here I am, standing at the corner. I've been here before, wondering which way to go. This time I choose living.

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